her knuckles. It was all she could do not to clutch the red gingham tablecloth in wonder at his odd behavior.
“Is there something troubling you, Matt?”
“I wouldn’t call it trouble.” He looked up from their joined fingers. The amber heat of his gaze would have set her spinning if she hadn’t already been doing it. “There’s something I should have done some time back.”
Matt reached into his pocket and drew out a small velvet box.
“This is for you.”
“Mercy, you didn’t have to get me anything.” Lands! No one had ever given her anything in a velvet box. “But I’m pleased that you did.”
He lifted the lid on the box.
A gold band engraved with morning glories lay against the deep blue velvet.
“A wedding ring,” she whispered.
Matt plucked it from the box and slid it over her finger. It couldn’t have fit better if the jeweler had been standing beside her taking a measurement.
“I can’t figure what took me so long to think of it. You should have had it weeks ago.”
What a pretty thing it was, glowing in the light of the candle on the red tablecloth. A lump formed square in the middle of her throat. It ached nearly as much as her heart.
“I’ll make sure the marshal gets a good stare at it.” Words had trouble making their way past that blamed lump. If she could speak her piece without bawling like a baby for things that couldn’t be, she’d bless her stars. “I’ll only wear it to town. It won’t show a bit of wear. You’ll be able to sell it once you get to California.”
“This isn’t a show for the marshal or anyone else. You are my wife. I’d be pleased if you’d wear my ring. You can throw it in the creek tonight or keep it to remember me when we part ways. This is yours, darlin’, and the marshal be damned.”
“It’s lovely, Matt. I’ll be proud to wear it.”
Cream churned to butter couldn’t have melted her insides like his smile. The grin pulling at the crease in his cheek called to be kissed.
Just one kiss from her to him that didn’t have a blessed thing to do with escaping the hangman’s noose.
She would have done it, but Matt leaned toward her first. His lips came down upon hers. His hair brushed her cheek and smelled of grass and leather, new lumber and secret dreams.
Her left breast pressed tight to his shirt when his arm circled around her back. Somewhere out on the prairie on the long ride home, she’d make sure the other one got there, too. It didn’t matter that her marriage would be short, she would have it be true.
Matt lifted his lips from hers. He smiled and tapped the tip of her nose. She wanted so much more. For now she gazed down at the ring on her finger, dreaming of a future to go with the promise of the gold, even though it could never be.
A whisper of voices murmured through the dining room but Emma paid no attention.
“Get a lookie-see at the lovebirds,” a sneering voice said from beside the table. Matt’s arm tightened about her back.
“Go on about your business, Bart.”
“This would’ve been my business if you hadn’t gone and butted in.” Bart’s foul smile made Emma’s stomach lurch. Had she really considered wedding him? Praise be that Matt had come along!
“You have no dealings with my wife. You’d better move along before I take offense.”
Bart planted his boots, swaying beside the table.
“Looks like you didn’t hear the news, kissing up to the missus like you are. Hawker’s out. Plans on taking his time getting here to make you sweat, is what I hear. But he’s riding in.”
“You gone deaf, Bart? I told you to get out of here.”
It seemed that every soul in Del Monico’s had lost interest in their meal. Not a single fork clanged against a plate. She heard Hawker’s name whispered from every corner of the dining room.
“Lady, once that man of yours is worming in the grave, I’ve a notion to take his place—”
Lightning couldn’t have moved as fast as her husband. One moment Bart had been working his tongue at a sore on the corner of his lip and the next Matt had scooped him up by the seat of his pants and tossed him out the door of Del Monico’s.
Through the window she saw Bart come to rest in a horse trough, splashing and sputtering. He rolled out of the water but